


A matter of time

by tomoewantsdolls



Series: Drarryland 2019 [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Drabble, Drarryland: A Drarry Game/Fest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 04:56:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18087848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomoewantsdolls/pseuds/tomoewantsdolls
Summary: Harry is on a case, Draco is nowhere to be seen





	A matter of time

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus Prompt: "Harry thinks Draco works a boring desk job at Gringotts until he finds a clear photograph of Draco dated 1912. Minimum: 455 words - Maximum 954 words. "
> 
> Thanks Benzodiazepines for the beta! (any remaining mistake is my fault and mine alone)

The house was empty by eight o'clock and only Harry remained. He searched methodically, room by room, determined to find any clue he had missed by sheer stubbornness.

The dark witch they had been tracking had disappeared into thin air hours before. She went inside the house and then... nothing. The anti-apparition wards were in place but none of the five Aurors that kept vigilance saw her going out again.

After six hours searching, everyone had gathered all of the relevant artifacts for their study and left, but Harry wasn't satisfied. He started searching in reverse order hoping for something to stand out of place and, in the last room he checked on the second floor he saw it: a book in the library. It only stood out because the name on the spine was from top to bottom, and he had to cock his head to the other side to read it. He double checked that it was the only one upside down.

“A matter of time” he read. Inside, the pages were blank except for a note on the first one. _Are you a friend or a foe?_ He frowned. “A friend?”

The words changed then and he almost dropped the book. _You aren't sure?_

He didn't trust sentient books since he was twelve, but on the inside he was still that reckless boy, so he answered, obviously. “It depends on who you are.”

_Ah, of course. Well, I'm no one. You?_

“I'm no one, too.”

A moment and then _Liar._

Harry snorted and put the book in his robes. He didn't have the energy to deal with this right now. He wanted to finish with the attic and then go home to rest.

Almost an hour later he stood in the middle of the dusty room, hands on his hips and grime all over his robes. He had a nagging feeling that he was missing something and the weight in his pocket could be of help. His first thought was about Hermione and her recurrent, indignant lecture about inappropriate acts of stupidity and misplaced sense of duty that makes him take unnecessary risks, or something along those lines. Well, no doubt she was right, she always is, but he opened the book anyway.

_Are you a friend or a foe?_

“A friend.”

_Would you help me?_

Harry pondered, of course he didn’t expect it to be easy. “Would anybody be hurt?”

 _Probably me._ A beat, and then: _Maybe you._

He frowned. “Is someone in danger?”

_Me._

The moment he made his decision clear the book gave him instructions and about half an hour later he was seated on the stairs, the seventh step broken and a tin can on his lap. Inside were some newspaper clippings and a couple of photos. The first was of the house, in a better state than it was now; the second was a portrait of a young man, maybe in his 30s, leaning on a cane and looking directly to the camera. Harry squinted and turned the photo to check the back. It could have been Draco Malfoy if the photo wasn’t dated 1912.

Harry rubbed his face; he was exhausted. He decided he would sleep on all of this and study his findings tomorrow. Maybe he could go to Gringotts and ask Malfoy about a lost relative or a doppelganger.

The next day, he detoured on his way to work and stopped at Gringotts. The goblin he asked told him that it was Mister Malfoy’s day off, so he went back the next day, and the day after; the goblin he talked to grew more and more annoyed each visit. He was at his desk musing about this and his case stalemate when Hermione knocked at his door.

“Hullo Harry. Do you want to have lunch together?”

“Hmm.”

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s just this case. I’m stuck, and I thought I had a clue but haven’t been able to talk to Malfoy and ask him about it.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes it helps to talk about things out loud.”

Harry opened the folder and handed the photos and the newspaper clippings to her. When she looked at the photo of the young man, her eyes widened.

“Wow. It certainly looks like Malfoy.” She turned the photo and looked at the inscription at the back. “Interesting.”

“What is it?” He said.

“When did you find it?”

“Three days ago.”

She smiled. “This photo was taken exactly 100 years ago.”  
Harry frowned and fixed his gaze on the photograph; the unwavering gaze of the man was disconcerting. Then he blinked, and Harry startled because he had thought the photo was muggle. He took it and looked closely at it. The man was motionless for a little while until he blinked again, then he reached with his free hand to lift his sleeve. Before the loop restarted, he was able to glimpse the tail of the serpent of Malfoy’s faded Dark Mark.

“Holy shit.”


End file.
